Ask DNA
by DellaVie
Summary: Ben is so much like Dean, you can't deny they're related. In fact, you could say it's in his genes.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Not mine. Yet.

Timeline: Post Season 3 Spn, throughout Dark Angel.

Notes: This fic also accepts the conversation in SupernaturalGeek's _Legacy_ as canon (storyid #4111583), because I don't see the point in writing it if it's already been writ, and also because it was better than what I would've come up with anyway. You don't have to have read it to understand, but I simply believe in pimping good work.

* * *

It had been eight days since Dean had died, and to say that Sam wasn't taking it well was an understatement.

He'd been on a three-day binge, partly because he needed to forget, and partly because he was fairly certain Dean would've been proud of him for lasting three days. Afterwards, he had helped Bobby put Dean on a pyre, and then he stared silently into the flames that had devoured all the family he'd ever had, and in Jess' case, hoped to.

He had moped around Bobby's ancient books day and night until the elder man had sent him on a case to take his mind off it. Bobby had gone along, of course. There's no sense on sending someone with a death wish on his own.

It hadn't helped.

They scraped out of the derelict haunting, bruised and bloodied and Sam went right back to researching a way to get a soul out of hell, Bobbys' pleas falling on deaf ears. A impenetrable wall had manifested around Sam's psyche, effectively blocking his ability to communicate with any degree of emotion. Not even the reminder that echoed through his mind that this wasn't what Dean would have wanted could sway him. Nothing could.

Except that one phone call.

It had been eight days since Dean had died, and to say that Sam wasn't expecting this phone call was a huge understatement.

_Smoke on the Water _had started wafting faintly through the house, which was strange enough to distract Sam from the text he'd been scouring. The only people Sam could think to ring Dean were both in the building staring at the coffee table like it was contagious. Slowly, Sam approached it and checked the display.

Lisa Braeden.

Exhaling a deep breath, he clicked answer and was greeted with a hiccoughed voice.

"Dean?"

"No, it's Sam. Dean's..." He shut his eyes. "Dean passed away."

"Oh. I... I'm sorry." It was a simple and expected reply but the overtones made it anything but. It wasn't sympathy that dominated her voice, but shock, which was closely followed by panic and tinged with regret.

Sam wasn't really in the mood to deal with whatever situation she was facing, and was about to politely end the call when an image flashed through his mind. A picnic, a smile, and the look on Dean's face as he listened to DreamLisa talk about picking Ben up from baseball. He sighed and resolved to give a chance to the woman who, despite Dean's protests, obviously meant a lot to him.

"What's wrong, Lisa?"

The sudden return to the conversation startled her, and he could practically hear her fumbling for a reply. "It's... it's nothing. Sorry," her voice started to break, "about Dean."

Sam made to reply, but a _click _notified him that he'd be talking to the blankness. He stared at the cell for a moment, seemingly transfixed by it.

Bobby, who had been watching the conversation, looked for an explanation. "Well?"

The inquiry snapped Sam into movement. "I gotta go." He snatched up some of his things that were lying about before disappearing up the stairs.

With the air of a person who was used to being ignored by Winchesters, Bobby sighed and called after him. "Where?"

Sam scuttled down the stairs, a bag over his shoulder. "Indiana."

And was out the door before Bobby could ask why.

--

When he'd pulled the Impala onto the Braeden's driveway, he paused to consider his actions. He didn't know why he'd rushed out here. It was impulsive and he wasn't even certain that something was wrong. Since Dean had died his mind had decided to shut down and he was running on automatic impulses. He'd driven across four states on a feeling before he'd finally realised what he was doing.

His instincts were confirmed though, when he saw Lisa open the front door. Her eyes were stained with tears and it took a minute to recognise him, which was fair considering they'd only been in each others' presence for a minute the last time.

Slowly, he exited the car and smiled in understanding. She stepped back and gestured for him to come in.

When they both stood awkwardly in the foyer she suggested coffee to which he politely agreed, but all that did was move the tension into the kitchen.

After several false starts on both fronts Lisa finally managed to look Sam in the eye, the piercing intensity of her expression drilling the need for Sam to understand what she said. "I'm really sorry about Dean." She shook her head, "I should have told him."

He was about to tell her that she didn't need to keep apologising as it wasn't her fault, when he caught the last little mutter. "Should have told him what?"

She froze, her hands trembling the pot that she held. "I.. just..." She sighed, her reply rushing out of her in he breath, as though it wouldn't get another chance. "Ben is Dean's."

Ben. So Sam was right. Had been right all along in fact. On some level Dean had known it too.

Standing here in Lisa's kitchen, the confirmation that he had suspected for a long time now had thrown him. Until he realised that the person who really needed to hear it wasn't here to.

Sam started to tune out as Lisa apologised again, his mind whirring a thousand thoughts a second. He was an uncle. Dean was a father. And he'd never know. Does that mean that he--_woah, what?_

Sam brought himself back to the conversation abruptly. He had the distinct feeling that he'd missed something important. Sam stuck the last two minutes on replay. Yes, Ben was Dean's. Lisa was sorry that she never told him. And now Ben was missing.

_I'm sorry, what? _"Ben's missing? How?"

With the earlier admission that she'd kept to herself for eight years, it seemed her gates had opened. She deflated, telling Sam everything. Every. Thing.

She told him how she was young and needed the money, so she signed up to this government program to help mother children for those who couldn't. She spoke of how they told her to obtain DNA from an attractive counterpart, and how she wasn't too receptive to the idea, until she found out just how much money she'd be getting.

It seems all the coin in the world couldn't sway her when the time came to hold up her end of the bargain though, and she had run away with both Ben and the money.

And lastly, she explained how she spent most of her wealth creating a new identity and how they never thought to check out one Elisabeth Braeden, who had arrived in Cicero two weeks after Lisa Braydon went missing. She resumed her previous life in the last place that they'd think to look, right under their noses.

Apparently it hadn't lasted though, as two weeks ago they'd burst into her house and taken Ben, leaving her with the knowledge that there wasn't anything she could do that wouldn't risk the life of her son.

Her story had pulled at him, and when she had finished he pulled her into a comforting hug. But that's as far as it went. A deep, gnawing resentment had appeared in him when he realised that she never told Dean the one thing that he deserved to know, even if she had lied to protect her son. But damnit, he was Dean's too, and he couldn't let the anger slide.

So he just stood there in a cold, detached manner that had shrouded him since he'd lost his brother, embracing her and not trusting himself to speak for what seemed like eternity.

When she finally composed herself enough to let go, there was a hope in her eyes as she looked to him. It was something he couldn't deny, because he was thinking the exact same thing she was: they had to get Ben back. Family was family and when you're a Winchester, that means a hell of a lot more than it does to most.

After some small conversation involving Sam's number and promise to call if anything came up, Sam left Lisa's and headed back to South Dakota.

He had work to do.

* * *

There you have it, kinda bland, kinda detached... but that's just they way Sam is at the moment. I dunno why. Surely he knows his brother's still under contract.


	2. You Can't Hide

Someone asked about the timeline. To my recollection the pulse occured in 2009. And Dean karked it '08.

However, as far as being set is concerned, these first few chapters are pre-pulse (post Dean's death), and then it'll shoot forward through S1-2 of _Dark Angel_.

Hope that helps.

* * *

You Can't Hide

* * *

In the middle of the night, Ben woke to the harsh tug of his mother, telling him that they needed to leave. Right now.

Groggily, he began to ask why, when the sound of the front door being kicked in reached his ears.

Lisa's eyes widened and she pulled Ben into her arms, out of his room, and down the hall to her bedroom; the subtle sounds of movement downstairs could be heard.

Once inside, she opened the closet, and shoved her shoes aside to reveal a trapdoor that, from Ben's memory, was directly above the pantry, right next to the back door.

"Ben," his mum turned him to look her in the eye. "I need you do be very quiet, go downstairs, and when you get a chance, run. Run away."

"What's going on Mommy?"

"There's some men, and they want to take you. I can't let that happen. I love you Ben, please do this."

There was too much for him to process, but he did realise one thing was amiss. "What about you?"

"They're not after me, I'll be alright. Please go. I'll meet you at the park, hide in the tunnel." She pushed him towards the hole.

"No."

"Ben, we don't have time to argue, just do as I say."

Frantically, she pushed him towards the ladder. He'd always wondered why that was in the pantry.

When he'd climbed down, she shut the door, and he could hear her moving her shoes back on top of it.

He held his breath, and waited until he was sure the coast was clear.

Slowly, he pushed the pantry door open, and when nothing came oppose him, crept towards the back door.

He managed to get it open with only a silent _click_, and was sneaking to the back fence when he heard his mother scream.

He dropped all pretence at stealth. "MOM!"

He heard his mother yelling to run but he didn't care, he was going back in.

He made it to the door when two men, dressed in black had him against the wall and secured his hands. "Let me go! Mom!"

They dragged him to the foot of the stairs where a blonde man in a leather jacket descended. His eyes were severe as he appraised him.

"It's okay 493, we're going to take you home."

--

When he woke up, he was sitting in an office. _A pretty lame office_, Ben thought as he looked around. His gaze stopped on the man behind the desk.

"You're awake, 493."

He glared. "My name is Ben. Where's my mom?"

"You don't have a mother."

Ben snorted. "Everyone has a mother." Then considered. "Except for you. You probably have a bitch."

The mans' eyes narrowed.

Ben looked at him earnestly. "You know what that makes you?"

Choosing to ignore his comment, the man instead asked. "Did you ever find it hard to fit in? With school? With friends?"

Ben folded his arms. "No."

"Still," he continued, "you knew you were different. Faster, perhaps, than most kids your age. Stronger too."

Ben remained silent. He did know. He had better eyesight than all his friends, better balance, and could remember things almost mechanically. Most of the boys had called him a freak, only some thought it cool. The girls did, which was just fine with him.

"See, the thing is, you're not like most kids. You're special. This is a place for special kids, just like you. You were supposed to be here, but... unforseen circumstances didn't make it so."

"Where's my mother." It was a demand, not a question. One that gave the man no wiggle room to avoid answering, so he did.

"She's safe."

"Take me to her."

"That's not going to happen, son."

"I'm not your son. I want to see my mom."

"You can't. She's comprimised our entire operation. I'm afraid you won't be able to see her again. You belong here."

Ben stared back defiantly. "I belong with my mother."

The man looked at him for the longest time, before heaving a sigh. "You're can't go back, son. That's just facts. You'll have to live with it. But, as long as you stay here, I guarantee you that your mother will be safe."

Ben knew what they were doing, he wasn't stupid. Blackmail, pure and simple. "What if I refuse?"

"You don't have much of a choice, son. I'm sorry."

Ben exploded to his feet, his voice bouncing off the walls. "I'M NOT YOUR SON! AND I'M NOT STAYING HERE! TAKE ME TO MY MOM, NOW!"

Sighing, the man pressed a button on his desk, and two men entered. He nodded at them, and Ben felt something prickle his neck, before he fell asleep.

"Take him to psy-ops, tell them to scope it all out and bring him up to date with the others. Then put him in with alpha unit."

--

He'd been cleaned up; hair shorn, bland clothes. Then placed in psy-ops for three weeks, until he was "convinced" that his whole life had been a dream. He didn't believe them, but he didn't want to go back to the cute little girl who made his thoughts fuzzy, like she had stolen something from him. He wanted to go back to the other room even less, so he feigned innocence.

He'd been stationed in a unit of other kids, one of them had gotten "sick" and he was the replacement. His appearance made the others wary, and he later found out that it wasn't often that they met new kids their age. Or ever.

When the guards had left, Ben had told them his name. His real name, not some number they assigned him. He was Ben, and they weren't taking that away from him. He also said they should have one, too. When they looked to him, mixed parts eager and hopeful, he said that they deserved the right to pick their own name, "'cos you have to live with it, so you won't have no one to blame but yourself. Just don't pick something bitchy like Ryan."

As they mulled it over, he told them of home. Of a mother that loved him, and what a family is. He spoke of school, and friends, and parties and music. And each night when the guards had left he'd regail them with stories of life outside Manticore, of freedom.

Their innocence about the way things worked, prompted him to step up and act as the unspoken big brother. He looked out for them, kept their spirits up, and bonded with every one, including those that were weary of hearing things that clashed with what their commanders told them.

When it came time to tell them of the things that went bump in the night, he couldn't bring himself to say that there are bad things out there, things that want you dead for no reason than " 'cause". He didn't want to ruin the image of a wonderful place outside these walls. So instead he told them the story of a good place, and a bad place, and of monsters that became the 'nomalies.

One night, X5-433 - Jack - started seizing. They knew if he was caught, they'd take him away like the others, only this time they wouldn't be getting a replacement.

The door screeched and they ducked back into bed, feigning sleep as the cleaner approached Jack, and placed a picture in his hands.

When he had left, they wandered over to a now-lucid Jack, who was staring at the picture in awe.

"She's beautiful," Zack had remarked.

"Who is she?" Max asked, and they all turned to Ben for an answer.

Ben looked at the picture of Mary, and told them what he remembered from church. "She's watching over us."

It was some time later that they'd built a shrine on top of the wing. Baubles, trinkets and even lost teeth that they'd found adorned the picture. Because if they meant so much to them, then maybe it'd mean something to her. Ben started to push faith to them, not just because they needed hope, but because after nearly two years of this seclusion, he did too.

He was starting to break.

Though he hated this... institution, he learnt what they taught him. Fighting, tactics, what 'honour', 'loyalty' and 'discipline' meant, and what their purpose was. And if he disagreed, he learned very early on to keep it to himself, all the while trying to figure out a way to escape.

When they brought a convict in for one of their missions, they'd neutralised him with ease. And when they opened his shirt to reveal the tattoo, something in Ben snapped. A bleeding heart, that's what he had. A giant gaping hole where love should be, where his mom should be.

It wasn't until that night, when he lied awake in bed that he fully realised what he'd done, and it sickened him. He crawled into the bathroom that night and vomited up his dinner. But in the midst of this newfound disgust, he also strenghtened his resolve. He had to get out.

He had to.

Four days later, they escaped. And Ben went back to the only place he'd ever called home.


End file.
